Yet from ancient times to the present, there had been only one Hegemon King—Xiang Yu. Such a divine man was unique throughout all ages.
His layered encirclement could not compare to Soldier Immortal Han Xin's Ten Sides Ambush; his methods of sapping the enemy's will and breaking their fighting spirit were also far inferior to Strategist Sage Zhang Liang's Songs of Chu from All Sides.
But his opponent was even less worthy of comparison to Hegemon King Xiang Yu—he was not even fit to carry that man's shoes.
For this battle, he had expended so much effort and heart's blood, step by step seeking to expand the gains, consolidate his foundation, strengthen his own advantages, and weaken the enemy. Even now, these efforts had only begun to bear fruit.
Only after he completely breached this watchtower would he truly reap the rewards. The resistance of those within would surely be far weaker than expected, and his own losses would certainly be greatly reduced.
For all these considerations and calculations, when he saw that the nearly hundred warriors who had come to surrender were almost entirely dead or wounded, with only three to five still desperately clinging to life, he immediately ordered his soldiers to cover the survivors' retreat. At the same time, he ordered all the prisoners being escorted at the front to withdraw.
The strategy of attacking the heart had already taken effect. Next came the hard battle—the most difficult stage of this entire campaign: the assault on a fortified position.
Since ancient times, assaults on fortified positions had always been the hardest kind of battle and the kind with the greatest casualties. One often had to pay enormous losses for even a measure of success. To reduce casualties, one could only rack one's brains in other areas.
Linghu